


The Whispers of The Wind

by JamesAlexander



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Magic, Magic!Stiles, Mythology - Freeform, Runes, Teen Wolf AU, constipated!Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesAlexander/pseuds/JamesAlexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took the Hale pack over a year to get rid of the mess caused by Deucalion and his Alphas. The pack has now more time for themselves and for proper bonding, but Derek hasn't quite grasped exactly how dynamic the pack has become. Stiles struggles to keep his place among the pack, and to face the consequences of having told the Sheriff about the things that go bump in the night. Scott and Allison still have a lot of issues to settle, in fact, Allison has a lot of issues to set with the pack. And when things seem to settle down a little bit, there's another series of animal attacks in Beacon Hills. Are the Alphas back, or is there an even bigger threat lurking in the shadows? is the pack going to survive, or have they ran out of luck?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Case of the McCargent Heartbreak

The darkness gave place to the ceiling of his room. It was just a plain white surface, no bumps, no dents, immaculate. Stiles let out a breath, the air hissing as it rushed out through his lips. The ceiling was how he actually wished my life was. Stiles had always had a bad feeling about this thing, the werewolf situation. When he realized Scott had been bitten by a werewolf, that at the time they didn’t even know was Peter Hale, he panicked big time. Because it was something he didn’t see as a gift, Stiles saw it as a curse. Of course, now Scott sees it as a curse too. That had happened two years ago, but it didn’t seem to stop taking a toll on everyone he knew, from his best friend to his own father.

The Alpha pack had been the worst. Derek was alone with a damaged teenager and a sociopathic zombie when they had come into town. Stiles hadn’t even known they were there until the day one of them approached him, probably smelling the scent of werewolf lingering in his clothes, from Scott. At the time, the teenager didn’t even know he was way over his head, you know? He just stood up against the woman flashing her red eyes at him. Stiles didn’t bare his throat in submission, and he didn’t stay quiet as she threatened him. And then he saw him. The Alpha of the Alphas. Deucalion. He had this kind of presence, this aura that clearly showed he was bad news. Stiles went to Derek right after that. He told the teenager about the Alpha pack, and how they had come to Beacon Hills right after Gerard had gone missing, almost three months earlier. They hadn’t made a move ever since, according to him.

Stiles knew Derek couldn’t stand a chance against them, unless he had a pack on his own, so Stiles tried to bring all the werewolves he knew to his side. Scott, Jackson, Erica and Boyd. That’s when he was told they were missing. And that probably the Alphas had them. They ended up rescuing them, of course, and Derek accepted them into the pack. With Jackson, Lydia and Danny came along, only the latest actually taking the bite, since Lydia was immune. Scott brought Allison with him, much to Derek’s dismay.  Of course Stiles told him they had to make some sacrifices in order to keep their condition of living beings, unless he was in such a rush to follow on his Uncle’s footsteps. Derek had only scowled, as usual, and grunted a ‘whatever floats your boat’. So, the pack was made of eleven people - three humans, seven Betas, one Alpha. Against five Alphas and all the betas that came with them.

So Stiles decided they needed the heavy weights. He went to Chris Argent. He was not proud of it, to do it behind Derek’s back. But there were still some hunters that followed the code in which Argent could trust. And there was one last string the Sheriff’s son could pull. His father. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, to be honest. But he was the Sheriff. If there was someone up for the task of protecting the town, it would be him. At first, he didn’t believe Stiles, but then the teenager took him to the Hale house, almost completely rebuilt during the months the Laphas had been inactive, and asked Derek to shift in front of him. Luckily, Stiles still hadn’t switched his dad’s gun’s regular bullets with wolfsbane bullets. Let’s just say that it all eventually went well, after some shots and shouts.

The Grand Finale, as Deucalion called it was a massive battle. They barely made it out alive. Of course, Derek told the pack humans to stay back, while the wolves fought. But Lydia, Allison and Stiles eventually gathered up to create a distraction, and split the Alpha Pack, so it was easier for Derek and the rest of the wolves to kill them.

Stiles hadn’t expected Deucalion himself to show up at the house where they had kept Erica and Boyd, which the humans were setting on fire. Luckily, Allison and Chris were with them, and managed to subdue him, and eventually kill him. He offered Stiles the bite, as he died, his arms clenched around the young man’s shoulders. If he had ever thought the very same experience with Peter had been frightening, this time around he almost shat my pants.

It had taken them over a year to get rid of them, and a couple more months chasing off the Betas that stayed behind after the Alphas had been killed. Things were quiet now. It had been a month since Derek had chased of the last of the Betas, and only now they were starting to relax. It was weird, to have time for himself again. The pack ended up forging some bonds over the time they had to fight against their most powerful enemy so far, but some of the relationships, namely between Derek and the Argents, were still shaky.

Stiles heard the phone ring, and ran down the stairs. It was rare for someone to call them home, but it could be important nevertheless.

“Hello?” He asked, shyly, as he looked nervously around the house. He grunted to himself. Goddamned habits, that came with having his life in danger so many times.

“It has been so much time since the last time we spoke, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t recognize me…” A female voice said from the other said.

And she was wrong. Stiles recognized that voice as clear as if he had last spoken to her the day before. He felt a huge smile crossing my face, as he sat down the couch, more relaxed now with the familiar sound of her voice in his hear.

“Oh, Babushka Anastasyia, of course I recognize you!” The teenager chirped.

The woman laughed from the other side. She had a slight Russian accent, but you could only notice it if you knew what to look for. Still, it made Stiles feel connect with his roots, with the origins of his family.

“I thought you wouldn’t even remember what you used to call me.” She replied, as cheerfully as her grandson. “How have you been, honey?” She said, this time in Russian.

He had a bit of a hard time remembering the words and the rules of the Russian grammar, since it had been years since I had last spoken to her in Russian. Sometimes the Sheriff would speak small sentences in his Grandparent’s native tongue, but it had become more and more rare. Still, he was a curious person, and he liked to learn, so, hr ended up catching up on his Russian, to keep the family tradition.

“I’m great, what about you?” He replied, in the foreign language.

“Old, and getting older. And so your Dedushka.” She sighed, in English once more. Stiles thanked silently, because he was having a hard time thinking in Russian with the excitement of talking to his Grandmother.  “Is Maxim home?”

“No, Dad’s at work, I think. We’ve had some animal attacks around the Preserve, and he’s been on that for the past months.” And yet, it began again, lying to his family, just a a yer after he finally had come clean to his father.

“Oh, I needed to speak to him. I think it’s time we went down to Beacon Hills and pay you two a visit, don’t you?” She said, a smile tugging to her voice.

Stiles’s heart was hammering in his chest. Since his mom died, it was almost like the Sheriff was the only family he had. Well, there was Scott, that was like a brother to him, but still, it was nice know about the rest of the family.

“I’m sure he’ll be up for that. We still have a guest room, so space shouldn’t be a problem.” He explained, hoisting his body from the couch. “But I’ll talk to him when he gets home, and he’ll call you back, how does that sound?”

“Great. Then we’ll talk later, honey.”

“Da.” He smiled. “Bye!”

“goodbye, honey, it was good talking to you.”

Stiles had always been awkward with farewells. Well, to be honest, he was awkward with everything, but anyway… He turned around, and let out a manly squeal – and yes, there is such things as a manly squeal, Stiles invented it, problem with that? -, as he watched the shadows take the shape of… Derek Hale coming from the hall, probably sneaking in through the window.

“Should I install a pet flap on the front door, so it looks more appealing for you to use it instead of my window?” The teenager asked dryly, as he clutched his own chest. “I swear Derek, it would be humiliating, after facing a threat as great as an Alpha pack, to die of an heart attack caused by the one Alpha that should be saving my ass!”

Derek, as he usually did, watched quietly as he rambled, and then lifted an eyebrow, in a questioning glance, before talking.

“Who was that?”

Stiles gave him the cold shoulder and brushed past him to the kitchen. The Alpha followed him closely, and it didn’t take much longer until he was pinning the younger man against a wall. Oh, c’mon, Stiles wasn’t doing this on purpose so Derek would do that, ok? Ok… Maybe he was, a little… But it’s because he didn’t get enough action, ok? And if he could have a hot sculpted werewolf pinning him against a wall, Stiles would make sure such pinning would happen, so he at least would have some jerk off material, thank you very much. Not that he jerked off with the picture of Derek Hale on his mind… very often. Of course, sometimes Derek seemed a little too intense. He was not complaining, hello, he’s all grabby hands right now, so no, no complaining from the Stiles Stilinski, just… stating a fact.

“Who. Was. That. On. The. Phone?” Derek asked slowly, like Stiles hadn’t understand him perfectly the first time.

“Dude, I’m not a six year old, I can understand if you speak in fluent sentences.” He sighed. “I mean, that is insulting of my intelligence. Need I remind you that I saved you a hell of a lot of times, enough for me to prove that I am worthy of more than a slow baby talk?”

Derek rolled his eyes. And as much as Stiles liked a hot guy pinning him against the wall, he didn’t want the Werewolf to maim him, possibly using the cutlery in the drawer not an arm away from him. So, who was he to push the wrong button too much?

“It was my Grandmother, Sourpuss.” Sour wolf was getting a little old. Stiles liked to change once in a while his affectionate nicknames towards Derek. This week was the Sourpuss week, just because Sourpuss is an immensely ironic nickname that he had found terribly entertaining ever since Stiles discovered the wonders of Tarder Sauce. The Grumpy Cat, as she is known around the internet, had a remarkable resembles with Derek, despite the fact she was a Cat, and Derek a werewolf.

“You were talking Russian… With your grandmother?” Derek asked.

Stiles’s eyes widened.  “Well, since the family from Father’s side, including my Grandmother, comes from Russia, yes, _we_ were talking in Russian.”

“I didn’t know… Your father’s name… Maxim?”

“Yes. You think it’s strange? Glad you never heard mine.” Stiles smiled at him, tapping at the older man’s chest so he would let him go. It was amazing how that seemed to have become the ‘safe word’, or ‘safe sign’, maybe that would be more accurate. He would always let Stiles go if he did that. And Stiles got to touch those massively defined pectorals, so, win-win. “But what brings you here to my humble Den, oh king of the Werewolf pack?” Stiles said, a little too theatrically, but screw it, Derek was the one trespassing, so handle it.

“I was just passing by.” Derek informed neutrally.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow at the werewolf, as he opened the fridge.

“Yes…?” Derek tried. Then he huffed out a frustrated breath. “Scott was at the house… He and Allison are off again.”

Stiles grinned at him.

“He went for you?”

“Shouldn’t you be jealous? He’s _your_ best friend.” Derek retorted.

“Well, when it comes to Allison, I’m sick of his mooning over her.” Stiles shrugged. “Get him to play x-box, instead of abandoning him. Oh, God, did you left him alone at the house with Peter?” The teenager groaned. “Great. Mr. McLunaticPants is certainly enhoying messing around with his mind, which only gets him worse, thank you, Derek.”

“Did you just call my Uncle…”

“Mr. McLunaticPants? Yeah. And don’t laugh, because in my head you’re Mr. O’CreepsterEyebrows.” Stiles cut him short before Derek could chuckle at his uncle’s expense. “I guess I’ll head to your place, then, and tend Scott’s renewed heartbreak. I swear, one of these days, if that girl keeps on hurting him I will use her for target practice. I bet Boyd wouldn’t mind joining me wither. You saw what she did to him? The guy’s shirt looked like Swiss cheese, Derek, she made a pin pillow out of the poor bastard… If I had gone that nuts when my mom died half of Beacon Hills would already be gone. And the worst part is that she doesn’t get it that Scott is just as much as her anchor as she is his.” Stiles was now stabbing a finger furiously against Derek’s chest.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Alpha looked at the teenager as he rambled, while he got out of sight, going up the stairs. The Werewolf knew that Stiles was aware he could still hear the human upstairs talking, and the fact that Stiles was up to having a one sided conversation, either showed how talkative he was, ho how much he expected Derek to reply, anyway. After a while, Stiles came back down the stairs, his sneakers on, a red plaid shirt over the white t-shirt he was wearing earlier, and a baseball cap on sunken on his hair, which he had let grown out a little, be it on purpose or simply because he didn’t even felt safe going to the barber shop, Derek didn’t really known, and even if he did, it didn’t change the fact that now he knew Stiles looked good with either haircut. It was also the first time he saw him with a cap, and it also looked good on him. Derek was  a little lost in a list of things that he thought Stiles maybe didn’t looked good on but in which he would probably actually look sexy and bring down any conspiracy Derek had in taking an humiliating photo of Stiles. Because Derek still remembered the picture he took him when he dressed up as Santa Claus for the Christmas before.

Stiles froze at the door, as Derek started to follow him, and the Alpha felt his heart fluttering, with the feeling Stiles ha just read his mind and that he was reminded of the picture he probably never remembered ever having snapped.

“Are you actually coming out through the front door with me, Sourpuss?” Stiles said, in a faked touched voice.

Derek rolled his eyes. Of course… Nevertheless, he still followed Stiles. The ride to the Hale house was short and eventless. Derek sighed in relief. It was still hard to get used to not being afraid of getting intersected by the Alpha pack while they tried to drive somewhere. It had only happened once, to one of them, but it was enough. Stiles’s Jeep was still at the mechanic’s after the attack.

When Derek came in, Scott was sprawled on the couch, trying to cover his head with one of the pillows. Peter was hovering over him with an enjoyed smirk on his face. He looked up at Derek can chuckled.

“The poor pup is heartbroken…” Peter said, feigning concern.

Derek rolled his eyes, and Stiles bumped into him slightly as he brushed past the Alpha.

“You know the best remedy for a McCargent heartbreak?” Stiles asked out loud. Derek lifted an eyebrow, with Peter mimicking his gesture on the other side of the living room.

“I can’t believe you actually called it that in front of them!” Scott groaned into the couch.

“What?” Stiles shrugged, when he saw the looks both the Alpha and the former Alpha were giving him. “McCargent. McCall plus Argent? Thus, the McCargent Heartbreak. I could say a case of the blue McBalls, but that wouldn’t be just as creative, now would it?”

Scott let out another moan of despair. Derek was seriously wondering how Stiles’s mind worked. It seemed a strange, vast and scary place. Derek shivered at the thought of being able to read his mind. He had to stop reading the twilight saga… Not that Derek read the twilight saga, or watched the movies, or read the comics, or read any other think written by Stephanie Meyer! No, because Derek is a manly Alpha Werewolf, not a shrieking fangril… Just for the record, if Derek did read the twilight saga, he was Team Jacob all the way. Sparkle in the sunlight… If only Stephanie knew what true vampires would be capable of…

“Oh, Sourpuss!” Stiles shouted, snapping him from his thoughts. “I’ve been asking you if you have an x-box for the past century… What is wrong with you? If only I knew using the front door was going to mess you this up, I would have let the window open…”

Scott looked up from the couch.

“He used the front door?” And there was genuine surprise on his tone, which only ripped a sigh out of Derek, as his eyebrows traveled up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“Quoting Scar? I’ve always seen Peter as Scar, not you. But then again, he does have a Zira-vibe to him, with all the ‘I’ve been exiled, persecuted, left alone with no defense, when I think of what that brute did I get a little tense, but I dreamed a dream so pretty that I don’t feel so depressed, ‘cause it suits my inner kitty, and it helps me get some… rest’” Stiles finished the verses with his hand mimicking the motion of claws ripping through his neck, as if referring to the moment Peter had killed Kate.

Derek looked at him open mouthed. He could see Peter as Zira, and Kate as Peter’s Mufasa. And, if Derek were to be Scar, then Kate would still be kind of his Mufasa, with no related blood, of course. Wait, why was Derek going into this conversation, anyway?

“Don’t compare me to Lion King characters…” Derek snapped.

Stiles giggled.

“So you _have_ seen the Lion King…” he sighed. “I live by the hakuna matata, you know? I’m a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just goes away…”

“You just said that because you didn’t want to how to the alpha…” Scott said from his place in the couch.

Stiles shrugged, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that possibly meant that his friend was right.

“So, about the x-box…?” Stiles insisted.

“Stiles, my house burned to the ground. You think I still have an x-box?” Derek grunted.

“Oh, but you had one? Great, can you get it for me, please? It’s in my room…?”

Derek rolled his eyes. And fifteen minutes later, he is at Stiles’s place again. He was sure that all Stiles wanted was a moment alone with Scott, but well, who was Derek to deny help in curing the case of the McCargent Heartbreak. Oh, God, Derek couldn’t believe the name had stuck. When he entered the room, he froze. It smelled like reptile. He looked around, and saw the enormous terrarium by the closed. And it was empty. He could hear it’s hear beat, the sound of its scales rasping the floor as it moved closer to Derek. It had almost 14 feet, and it was coming from under the bed, brown scales reflecting some of the light that came through the window. Derek’s eye were wide open, looking at it. It still kept coming towards him, and he took a step backwards, closing the door, and grabbing his phone. Stiles answered at second ring.

“You can’t be possibly having a hard time finding it, it’s on the top shelf of the closet” Stiles snarled from the other side of the line.

“Oh, you mean in the closet next to which is an empty terrarium that should be containing a gigantic-sized snake?!” Derek hissed.

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh, so you’ve met Hugs, the Boa. There’s this new foreign exchange studand, from Scandinavia, Skyor… They’re still unpacking, so he asked me to take care of his snake, since I have some experience.”

“He named his Boa Hugs…?” Derek asked, slowly.

“Yeah, how funny is that?” tiles chuckled. “Don’t worry, she is safe inside the terrarium, she shouldn’t bother you.”

“What part of ‘an empty terrarium’ didn’t you understand, Stiles?” Derek growled at the phone, putting it close to his mouth to increase the dramatic effect.

“She’s just hidden, dude!” Stiles countered with a shrug on his voice.

“She was crawling towards me, coming from under your bed!”

There was the sound of movement and someone cursing on the other side.

“She got out?” Stiles chirped. “Derek, can you pick her-“

“No!” Derek said faster than he wanted to.

“Oh, c’mon, Derek, can you please do that for me, before it goes out the window? It’s not like it could hurt you, you’re stronger than her. Just pick her up and put it-”

“I’m not- I’m not picking that thing up!” Derek hissed back at Stiles.

“Why not?”

There was chuckling from the other side of the line, and he knew, oh, he knew Peter was enjoying this way too much. He heard his Uncle say something to Stiles. The kid snorted and tehn hesitated.

“Wait. Peter just told me you have ophiophobia, tell me is jocking…” Stiles started.

Derek heard the snake spit its tongue out, and its scaled scratching the wooden door. He shivered and jumped away from the door.

“I think it’s trying to get to me…” Derek whispered.

And Stiles was suddenly roaring with laughter.

“I can’t believe it!”

“What?” He heard Scott on the other side asking, confused.

“He’s like Indiana Jones!” Stiles said between bursts of laughter. “He’s all tough and menacing, and then he’s scare of- He’s scared of snakes! And Hugs is out loose and- Oh od, Hugs!” he was suddenly serious again, and he heard him going out of the house. “I’m driving, just, please try to make sure the window is shut.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Stiles got to his house, Derek was sitting on the couch, tensed up, his eyes set on the ceiling, probably pointing towards where he could hear the snake.

“I tried to enter the room to close the window. It went to the bathroom.” Derek explained, as Stiles went up the stairs. He opened the bathroom door, and Derek shivered as he watched Stiles pick the snake up, gently, not with fear but with care.

“Oh, poor thing. Derek scared you, didn’t he?” Stiles said, in an awful baby talk, a smirk directed at the Alpha.

He was so going to hold this against Derek when Jackson came into the room.

“The bad Lizard-killer Werewolf scared my poor baby.” Stiles kept on.

He looked at Derek, and watched as the Alpha realized where Stiles was going with all of this.

“If you say a word about this to Jackson, I swear I will-“ Derek started, but was cut off by the face of the snake inches away from his nose.

Stiles smiled cheekily at Derek, as he froze, in the middle of a step back.

“Take. That thing. Off of my face.” Derek growled.

“only if you behave.” Stiles said sternly, and grinned once more. “Oh, God, wait until Jackson hears about your fear of reptiles.”

“It’s not reptiles. I wasn’t scared of the Kanima.” Derek replied. “it’s just… Snakes… The don’t have legs… The sound their scales does… And the fangs…

And Derek did something Stiles was never expecting. He curled his fingers in front of his mouth, mimicking the snake’s fangs, just like Harry Potter had did. Stiles chuckled.

“One: Boas don’t have fangs like the venomous snakes, since they kill by constriction, not poisoning. Second: why use your fingers, when you, yourself have fangs, Sourpuss.” The teenager asked, as he put the Boa down into its shelter.

“I know… But have you seen its mouth…? It’s filled with rows of fangs…” Derek said, a shiver running down his spine.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Who knew, an Alpha Werewolf actually afraid of snakes…


	2. Rainstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Lydia have a Hangover Therapy from the McCargent Heartbreak, but that very same night, something changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is smaller then the first, but, yeah, cliffhanger, so, hope you enjoy it mwahahaha (I'm gonna run away now, so you don't have the urge to rip my throat out with your teeth! Meep!!)

Anastasyia looked up from the rosebush she was caressing. Her green eyes wondered off towards the horizon from behind her small glasses. She tied her blond hair in a bun behind her head, and took a deep breath through her nose. Miroslav, her husband, was getting out of the house, limping, his body weight supported by a cane. His hair was white as snow, and his beard framed his round face with the same color. His blue eyes were set on his wife.

“So, are you going to tell me why exactly are we going to go back to Beacon Hills?”

“The runes tell me it’s time to go there. Can’t you feel it, my love? The tides of fate are roaring, changing.”

The old man caressed her shoulder, smiling fondly at her.

“Then we should pack our things. You’ve talked to Maxim?”

“Yes. He is pleased to have us home. I’m going to tell him everything. He already knows a part of it.”

Miroslav nodded, as he looked at the storm forming in the horizon. The way back to Beacon Hills wouldn’t be easy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stiles walked down the stairs, his hair standing up in all possible directions. He needed a cup of coffee before he could start to bother about his own hair. Scott was still on the couch, in the exact same position he was two days before.

“I’m seriously going to let you die alone.” Stiles grunted. “My Dad is getting antsy, you know? He thinks I’m spending more time here because there is some kind of eminent supernatural occurrence.”

“Tell the sheriff I’m sorry for keeping you away, but I need you…” Scott sighed.

“We’ve been roaming through Skyrim for the past two days, Scott.” Stiles pointed out. As he watched the coffee brewing slowly. “I don’t know how else I can help you. You should talk to Allison.”

“You think so?”

“I don’t even know what you did wrong, this time…”

“I may have complained about her mother trying to get me killed… And her father… And her Aunt… And her Grandfather…”

“Dude, that’s a delicate subject… You should know better not to push it, especially about her mother…” Stiles grunted. “You’ll just have to remember what you did for me when my mother passed away.”

“You’re right… To be honest, I can’t even remember why we talked about it on the first place… I think it was because Chris glared at me in a threatening way. And she didn’t believe me when I told her so.” Scott said.

“Go talk to her.” Stiles shooed him towards the front door. “I’m in serious need of a coffee, right now.”

He watched as Scott went out the door. After a moment, he heard Derek coming down the stairs. He was surprised that he actually recognized Derek’s steps so easily, when the werewolf wasn’t being sneaky and silent. He looked up from the warm cup on his hands.

“Morning.” Stiles greeted.

“hey. Why do you keep bringing them together?” Derek asked, out of the blue, but genuinely curious. “I mean, you seem to have some hatred towards Allison…”

“I have.” Tiles growled. “What she did to Boyd and Erica. Hey are still afraid to stay in the same room with her, Derek, and I don’t even need werewolf powers to sense that. She went nuts. Ut then again, so did Peter, and he didn’t turn out to be that bad after he died…”

“Thank you!” Someone shouted from the library, a door at the end of the hall of the first floor.

“Just don’t let it get to your head.” Stiles replied back, a small smile on his face. “It is true, I won’t forget what she did. But I would like to have a second chance if I were in her place, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, if she’s the one that makes Scott happy at the end of the day…”

“He didn’t look so happy.” Derek pointed at the couch.

“Well, he’s still infatuated with her, so what can I do?” Stiles sighed. “He’s my best friend. I can’t tell him how to live his life, all I can do is help him out when he needs me.”

Derek tried to hide the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but Stiles could see it. He heard Isaac, Boyd and Erica shuffling upstairs, probably about to come down too. They were permanently staying at the house. His phone chirped loudly, and he read the text he had just gotten.

**_From: Lydia_ **

**_To: Me_ **

_Hey there. Allison is moping, Scott told her he’s coming. I’ve spent the last two days at the Argent’s. You been with Scott?_

**_From: Me_ **

**_To: Lydia_ **

_Yes. We need to go for the Hangover Therapy right now. Please tell me you’re up for curly fries._

**_From Lydia_ **

**_To: Me_ **

_And Bacon. And Eggs. Oh, god, my stomach is roaring._

**_From: Me_ **

**_To: Lydia_ **

_You are an angel fallen from the sky. Does Jackson know you can eat all of that?_

**_From Lydia_ **

**_To: Me_ **

_No. And if he finds out, your father won’t recognize your corpse. That is, he finds all pieces._

Stiles chuckled. Derek moved uncomfortably on his chair, and set down the cup of coffee.

“I’m going out with Lydia.”

“A date?” Erica asked with a grin.

Stiles shook his head.

“No. Hangover Therapy from the McCargent Heartbreak.” Stiles explained.

Erica seemed even more confused than when she entered the kitchen. Stiles just shrugged, not bothering to explain. Explaining would imply that he had to tell them Lydia loved grease fast food, which, hello? Stiles wasn’t up for having his body in pieces scattered around the Nile. Not like he had an Egyptian Goddess waiting for picking up the pieces and gathered them to make the first mummy ever. Stiles seriously needed to stop doing so much research on mythology and supernatural beings. It was messing the metaphors in his head. And let me tell you, his head was messy enough as it was, thank you very much.  

Stiles found himself sitting in front of Lydia barely two hours later. She was eating a piece of bacon as delicately as she could. Stiles let his mind wonder, as he ate another forkful of eggs. Two years earlier, and he would have been wooing Lydia like a madman if he found an opportunity quite like this one. But something had changed during those years, and something had been a certain werewolf Alpha for whom he might or might not have a little big crush. It wasn’t something that had happened suddenly, not at all. They hated each other’s guts, in the begging. But Stiles had saves his life so many times before. He couldn’t possibly not get attached in some way to Derek. Of course, like many things in his life, it was something he couldn’t have.

But it was ok, really. Stiles was used to have unrequited loves. He was the kind of guy that loved the impossible to reach. He had always felt fascinated by those things he couldn’t  touch. The sky, the stars, the moon, the dinosaurs, the myths, Lydia Martin, Derek Hale… All the same, really. Stiles wasn’t really one of being easily brought down. After all, he had survived the death of his mother, there were not a lot of worse things than that for someone to go through. Sometimes he woke up frustrated, because he was kind of sick of it, you know? To feel he had no place beside anyone else. Frustrated that no one saw his potential, that no one gave him a chance. But he usually kept quiet. Better that way, not to attract unwanted attention. Sometimes he still thinks that maybe if he hadn’t scored so big that Lacrosse game, then just maybe, Gerard hadn’t got to him and broken him in a way that he couldn’t even start to explain to those around him. Ms. Morrell tried to help him, but really, what would she earn with it? Money. And that was all.

“Stiles!” Lydia barked.

He looked up, his bown eyes locking on her green.

“Your phone.” She pointed out.

He picked the vibrating device from his pocket, and answered the call.

“Yeah?”

“Son, your Grandparents are already here, don’t you want to come say hi to them?” the Sheriff said on the other side of the line, a smile reflected on his voice. Stiles smiled back, even though he couldn’t see it through the phone.

“yeah!” Stiles chirped, and then hang up. “Lydia, I gotta go. My Babushka is here!”

Lydia’s eyes opened wide, and she followed him, letting a bill fall on the table, and grabbing a sandwich for the way.

“Your what again?” she asked, getting in the Jeep.

“My Grandmother Anastasyia. She and my Grandfather Miroslav have come to spend the rest of the summer with us here in Beacon Hills.” Stiles smiled. “It’s been years since I’ve saw them!”

“They’re Russian?” Lydia asked, out of curiosity.

“Their parents were.” Stiles explained. “They gave them Russian names so they kept the tradition.”

“Does that mean you and your father…?”

“Yes.” Stiles nodded. “My Dad’s Maxim and my name shall be forever forgotten.”

 “oh, c’mon, Stiles, you know you can-“

“No.” Stiles cut. “I am serious, Lydia, nu-uh, no one, not even Scott knows my real name. My family are the only ones that know it and they shall take that secret with them to their graves. It will be the most well-kept secret of the entire nation of the united States, I tell you. not even when Werewolves take over the world, they shall know me as Stiles and Stiles alone.”

“Werewolves taking over the world?” Lydia chuckled, caressing one of her strawberry blond locks. “What movies have you been seeing?”

“Lydia, c’mon, have you seen the power the Alphas had under their claws? It’s the law of nature. If they wanted to gather all of the members of their species, they would take over mankind. Not to mention the fact they can rapidly increase their numbers by turning humans.” Stiles explained, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other gesturing abstractly in the air, in a way that maybe made sense to him, but was completely random at Lydia’s eyes.

He parked the car on the drive way, and Lydia was impressed with Stiles’s grandmother. She was a tall woman, that had an aura of confidence and respect around her. Lydia felt intimidated, but could also tell by her soft gaze that she was usually a warm person, only turning cold and calculating when need be.

“Hello, Se-“ The woman started.

“Stiles, please call me Stiles, Babushka!” Stiles begged, his hand in the air and his eyes set on Lydia.

The woman lifted a thin eyebrow, and smiled.

“Trying to impress the girl?”

“More like trying to preserve my dignity.” Stiles replied.

“Like you had any left to preserve.” Lydia commented, a wry grin on her face.

“Shush.” Stiles scolded playfully.

Miroslav limped towards them and hugged Stiles just like all the Stilinski men knew how to do. Stiles felt some comfort in having his family once more filling the house with sound. The place had stopped feeling like a home since Stiles’s mother died.

“Shall we get in?”Anastasyia invited, pointing at the door that was being held by the Sheriff.

Stiles father nodded his head in greeting towards Lydia, before entering the house.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The storm was relentless, and rain poured down on her car. She sighed, looking at the house. There was only one light turned on. The Sheriff had gone to work, and his parents were the only ones at the house. The woman looked at herself in the mirror. Her curly chocolate hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her pale face. Her red lips were pressed in a thin line of stress, and her brown eyes were heavy with tiredness and concern. She looked at the clock. She should have sometime before anyone else got back to the house.

The woman stepped out of the car, and crossed the street in a running pace. She knocked on the door, and Anastasyia opened it. She looked at her, judgment clear in her face. The older woman was about to shut the door, but she kicked forward, blocking it.

“Anastasyia, you need to let me in.” The woman begged, her voice soft and pleading.

“What makes you think you can just-“ The older woman started.

“Please. I’m begging you, let me at least tell you what happened!” She begged. “I need to talk to you!”

The older woman took a step backward, and let her in.

“What do you want, Catherine.”

“He’s turning eighteen in three days. They didn’t kept their side of the bargain.” Catherine spat, in a rushed tone. “You know what you have to do, please…”

“I know all of that. Have you forgotten that I can listen to the mute voices?” Anasasyia said, not unkindly.

“I-“ Catherine hesitated. “I wanted to make sure you take care of them. I know we swore never to use magic voluntarily again, but, please, Anastasyia…”

“You don’t have to beg. The life of my grandson is more important than any regret that made me want to never use my powers again.” She replied. “I will do what I can… I would ask you to stay, but it was too risky for you to come here, and we both know it’s for the best if you-“

The front door opened, and Stiles jumped in, followed by Scott and Derek. He shook th water out of his air, and looked at Derek.

“I am seriously going to ground that Jeep, man!” he whined. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that piece of crap, but sometimes it gets into my nerves.”

“Well, it suits you well for asking me to drive you around in the middle of a rainstorm!” Derek growls.

Stiles turned his head to the hall way. Anastasyia held Catherine’s arm tightly, bracing for impact. 


	3. Broken Promises

At first, Derek didn’t notice, but then he realized Scott and Stiles went still as their eyes set upon the women in the room. Derek figured the older was Stile’s Grandmother, but he didn’t know who was the other woman. She was strikingly beautiful. She was biting down on her red lips, nervousness seeping out of her scent. But what made Derek’s hear flip the most were her brown eyes, like molten gold, that reminded him of a pair of eyes he had grown so used to see in someone else’s face. He heard a whimper coming out of Stiles’s throat, as he tried to speak. Scott brushed Stiles’s arm gently with his hand, encouraging him.

“M-Mom?” Stiles stuttered, choking on the word.

Derek could feel the floor slipping beneath his feet. The younger woman breathed in with a hiss, at the sound of the word. Stiles was about to take a step forward, as she nodded.

“Honey…” She started.

“Catherine, you should-“ Anastasysia started.

“You’re dead.” Stiles whispered, disbelief tainting his voice, as he looked down at his trembling hands. “You can’t be here. You’re dead. This is not real. This is a dream, this-“

“Stiles…” Derek tried. The teenager was starting to have a panic attack.

Stiles’s head snapped towards Derek, and the Alpha could see the fire in them.

“It’s not a dream…” Scott winced.

“I’m sorry, baby, I-“ Catherine started.

“You’re sorry?!” Stiles shouted, and silence fell suddenly around the house. “That’s what you’re going to say? That your sorry?! Do you know- Do you even realize what you did to us? To Dad and me?! Don’t you dare telling me you’re sorry. It was me who had to keep stealing the drinks around the house so he wouldn’t get drunk. I had to live with the guilt, thinking I was somehow responsible for it!” Derek held back. Stiles’s face was red with anger, something Derek had never seen in the boy, not even when Deucalion mocked him about his weaknesses. “I had to be the one to keep him alive, to take care of his heart because I couldn’t bare loosing another parent! You’re sorry?! You should have stayed dead! And I hope you get out before Dad even gets home!”

There were tears streaming down Catherine’s face. Stiles’s eyes, though, were steel-cold.

“Ser-“ Catherine started.

“Don’t you dare say that name!” Stiles spat, waving both his hands in the air. “I stopped being called that when you died. So just get out through the same goddamned door you came in, and take with you all of the pain you left behind.” This time, his voice was quiet and even Derek felt a chill running down his spine. Worse than hearing Stiles shout for the first time, was to hear that darkness in his tone, something Derek had never thought someone so young could ever hold inside.

“Stiles…” Scott whispered. “I think you should give her a-“

“A chance?!” Stiles said, in the same wuiet tone, as he took a step to the said. He cocked his head towards Catherine, and extended an arm towards the door. “A chance for what? Come back from the dead? Nine years, Mother. We’ve spent nine years learning to live without you, Nine years going every weekend to an empty grave, thinking I was speaking to you. And now that everything is ok, now that we finally found our place, you come back? A chance for what? Ruining our lives once again? I don’t think so.”

Catherine lowered her head, and walked outside. She turned to Derek, sadness and concern in those brown eyes.

“Take care of him for me, Alpha.” She whispered.

Derek felt Stiles’s gaze setting upon him, as Catherine closed the door and ran under the heavy rain. He looked into Stiles eyes, but he was already aiming at his own grandmother.

“You knew, didn’t you? All this time, you knew.” Stiles hissed.

Anastasyia took a step forward, and Derek could see in her the same determination that he always saw in Stiles’s face when he was doing something he thought was right.

“Are you going to judge me too, boy?” The woman said, raising her chin slightly. “You have no idea of the sacrifices that woman made to keep you safe, to give you a normal childhood.”

“Ah! Normal? Werewolves, grandmother, is that normal?” And Derek felt the moment Stiles froze, because after all, he wasn’t supposed to tell them.

Derek heard the sound of the cane hitting the ground, and Stiles’s grandfather came out of the living room into the hall. He had a calm expression, but there was something twirling in his eyes.

“No. And you are lucky you found the Hales.” The man said. “There are far worse things, far more wicked beasts roaming the shadows. And your mother gave her happiness so you would be safe from such things. Do you think we would even talk to her if that wasn’t the case, knowing how wounded our own son was with her death?”

Derek watched as Stiles took a step back, and leaned his head down in submission.

“You knew about us?” Derek asked.

“Yes.” Anastasyia said. “But that is a story for another time. She’s your mother. She wouldn’t make you go through this if she had any other choice.”

Stiles huffed out a dry laugh, as he brushed past Anastasyia and Miroslav. A few minutes later, he was coming down the stairs, his backpack swinging on his shoulder.

“I’m going to stay at Derek’s.” Stiles snapped at his grandparents.

“Stiles, I don’t think it’s-“ Derek tried.

“Then I’ll sleep in the Jeep. Whatever floats your boat.”

Derek harrumphed, as he followed Stiles. He watched as Catherine’s car disappeared in the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Aren’t you curious about the fact that your grandparents know about werewolves?” Scott blurted out. “And Stiles, it was your mother, she’s alive and-“

“Have I not made myself clear?” Stiles hissed back. “She made her choice. Now all she has to do is stick with it.”

Derek felt something snapping inside of him, and pulled Stiles by his shirt.

“You should be grateful!” Derek shouted, almost roared, his eyes threateningly red. “Do you know how much would I give for my family to be alive?! You should go back to your own house, and talk to your Grandparents, see if they can help you get in touch with your mother again. She knows something is wrong, Stiles.”

The teenager locked his eyes on the Alpha’s, and resisted for a moment. Derek observed him shuffling back to the front door, sighing, and then making a run back to his Jeep. Scott followed him closely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stiles stopped the Jeep in the middle of the woods. He was starting to hyperventilate. It’s not like it was the first time someone was brought from the dead, you just had to look at Peter, really. But this, this was completely different. Stiles had just found out his mother wasn’t even dead. All those nights, trying to be there for his father, ignoring his own grief so he could help the old man go through the loss. All of that, and she was always there, alive, watching in the sidelines. Scott was there, and helped him go through the panic attack. An hour later, they were back at the home.

Stiles headed to the living room. Catherine was already there, sipping o a cup of tea.

“I-“ Stiles chocked. “We missed you so much.”

She ran to her child, and hugged him. Stiles took a deep breath, and felt the familiar aroma of her hair, and he broke into tears.

“I know, I missed you too…”

“Why did you do this to us?” Stiles asked, looking her in the eye.

“I think it’s time you should know.” Catherine took a deep breath. “When I turned eighteen, Anastasyia contacted me. At first I didn’t believe her when she told me I was gifted, that I could make magic, that I was a Witch. Anastasyia explained to me that there are people in the world that can make magic through runes, Warlocks and Witches. She trained me, helped me keep my powers in control. I eventually met your father, and we fell in love. But he didn’t have the gift, and we decided to keep him out of the supernatural world, to protect him… A few years into my training, I met Vivian Hale, Derek’s mother. Deaton was her Advisor, at the time. Deaton doesn’t have the gift of using the Rune Magic, but he knows his homework… And Vivian wanted someone that had powers to take the place of Deaton as Laura’s advisor, once Deaton passed away. Everything seemed fine. You were born during my training. By the time of the fire that killed the Hales, I was already very powerful. After the fire, Anastasyia and I started to mingle less with magic, so we wouldn’t attract unwanted attentions. But there were some shape shifters that knew about us, and were interested in having a Warlock or Witch in their ranks. Of course, they were looking for a child, with a mind easy to shape… That child happened to be my son. So, when they came for you, I made them a proposal. They would let you free, and I would fake my own death, so I would freely go with them and do their will. But they are here in Beacon Hills again, and they broke their promise, because you are one of the most valuable types of Warlock there is.”

Stiles had to sit down for a moment.

“You mean I can do magic? Like, wave a wand and say a word and things float around?” Stiles asked.

“It doesn’t work like that…” Anastasyia explained. “It requires Runes, for us. And training.”

“For us, what do you mean?”

“There are other types of magical people… Shamans channel the power of the Spirits of the forest, Clarics the spirits of other worlds, Alchemists bend the matter to the will of their minds through metal rods, or wands… And Warlocks or Witches, use the Rune Magic, or Arcane Magic, the magic that was used by the ancient Norse people.” Catherine informed. “But you will learn all of that. What you need to know is that when you turn eighteen next month, your powers will be unlocked, and Odin’s Army will come for you.”

“Odin’s army?” Scott asked.

“The Norse God of War.” Stiles sighed. “Who are these warriors?”

“shapshifters.”

“They’re werewolves?” Scott inquired.

“No.” Miroslav said, talking for the first time since they had come back to the house. “Berserkers. They shift into-“

“Bears!” Stiles hissed. “The animal attacks Dad’s been investigating…”

Miroslav nodded. Stiles looked at his mother. It was still hard to believe she was actually there.

“So, what do we do?”

“We teach you the ways of the Runes.” Catherine said. “I won’t be able to stay here for long, or else they will get suspicious… Besides, I would rather not cause the same reaction you had to your father. His heart might not handle it very well…”

“You’re right… And I’m sorry I…”

“You had every right to react the way you did, honey.” Catherine smiled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stiles spent the rest of the month learning all the Runes, and all the ways of the magic. The day before his birthday, he sat with his mother and Grandmother, as they started to test his knowledge.

“So, can you explain how Arcane Magic works?” Anastasyia started.

“We have to draw the Runes in a surface, and channel our power through them.” Stiles explained. “A spell usually requires two Runes in order to be performed. The Arcane Magic is flexible and mutable. A Rune has a basic meaning, but that can vary with the casters intentions. For instance, if you use the rune for Trap and the Rune for Blade, you can either create a trap made of blades, that would cut the enemy, or a trap made for blades, thus, making your enemy unable to use knives or swords.”

“Very good.” Catherine smiled. “And what types of Warlocks do you know?”

“Diviner, like grandmother, that specialize in all the second meanings of the runes, in order to predict the future, or unveil the past. Conjurer, like you, that specialize in the Runes that can summon spirits or other creatures to fight in our side. And Warden, like myself, that is specialized in wards and traps.”

Anastasyia exchanged a look and Stiles sighed, knowing there was one missing.

“And finally, Necromancer, that can bring the dead back to life…” Stiles said.

“They have a Necromancer among them…” Catherine said. “You have to be careful.”

Stiles was pensive for a moment.

“Lydia resurrected Peter Hale… Is she a necromancer?”

“Did she use Runes? Did Peter Hale retain his free-will?” Anastasyia asked.

“I don’t think she used runes… But Peter definatly still has free-will.”

“Then she probably was only a pawn in a troubled Spirit’s plan to come back from the dead. It happens sometimes… But those who return are never the same…”

Stiles’s phone was ringing. It was Scott.

“He should be patrolling the woods with  Derek…” Stiles mumbled, as he picked up. “Is everything ok?”

“Now it is…” Scott said on the other side of the line. “But Derek and I came across… a guy… He had shining blue eyes and looked… old. Derek says it might be a zombie? Is this the apocalypse? Just when I was getting to enjoy the werewolf thing, we go into the Walking Dead world?”

“You got rid of the body?”

“We were about to do it. Derek says it’s best if we ask for your Grandmother’s opinion, first.”

“Send me a pic.”

They hang up, and Stiles waited. Finally, Scott sent him a picture. The body looked almost like a crossover between a skeleton and a mummy, with long white hair. He showed it to his mothe, and her face turned pale.

“A Draugr.” She told him. “It’s a walking ice-mummy. They are used by the Odin’s Army Necromancer, Bianca… I’ve only saw her once… They kept me as far away from the main ranks as possible, in case I would desert… They use Draugrs as scouts, before they get ready for a battle.”

“So, it’s not a good sign, then…” Stiles sighed.

His mother shook her head. Over the last month, Stiles had been spending as much time with her as possible. It was a second chance they had, and he was grateful that Derek convinced him to go back that night and talk to her. It still killed him to keep his father away from all of this. Sooner or later, the Sheriff would have to know.

Catherine kissed his cheek, as she left. Stiles went straight to the Hale house.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Derek looked at him with equal parts of curiosity and suspicion.

“Are you… Are you scratching the doorways with a knife?” The Alpha asked.

Stiles huffed, and pointed the knife at him.

“I’m warding it against the Berserkers, Derek. I’m making you a favor.”

“By ruining the house I just renovated?”

“You don’t understand…”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Derek sighed. “You can’t use them yet can you? Only when you turn eighteen…”

“Which will happen in les tha two hours, Derek. Once I get my powers, I’ll be able to activate the wards. Simple.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Catherine felt the air around her get colder, as the Draugrs surrounded her. The wolf she  had summoned was keeping his body close to hers. Bianca drifted out of the shadows, her blond hair waving around her. She looked at the Conjurer with piercing green eyes.

“Catherine…” The woman hissed. “My little babies tell me you’ve been making our life harder… Trying to hide your son from us…”

“Why do you care? You made a promise” Catherine replied.

“Oh, so naïve that you are, honey… You should know better.”

Thunder roared in the sky, and the rain started to fall, as the Draugrs got closer and closer. Catherine’s thoughts were with Stiles, her mentor, Anastasyia, and her beloved husband, Maxim.


	4. The Stars, They Shine, With One More Tonight

Derek heard her before anything else. Seconds later, Catherine Stilinski was bursting into the house at two in the morning. Stiles jumped out of the couch, towards her. There was a scratch on her face, and her brown eyes were wide.

“Bianca, the Necromancer, she’s here, I didn’t have time to go anywhere else. She has at least fourteen Draugr with her.

“Mom, can you activate the Wards I made?” Stiles asked.

“That should be done by you, honey. I don’t know the exact meaning you gave the Runes. I can try making my own wards, they shouldn’t be as strong as yours though… But maybe I’ll have time to summon a flame golem. It should take care of the Draugrs easily, since they have a weakness to fire.” She looked at the clock hanging in the wall next to the fireplace. “It’s almost time…”

“Is there going to be any fireworks when I finally get my powers?” Stiles asked, and Catherine chuckled.

“You should feel something different, but no lights.” Derek explained. He felt two pairs of eyes looking at him surprised. “What? My mother told me once about it…”

Catherine lowered her head.

“She was talking about me when she told you that, wasn’t she?” Catherine asked.

Derek nodded. Derek was too young to remember everything about Catherine Stilinski. His mother had never told him she was married with the Sheriff, and he had never heard Stiles mentioning his mother’s name. Lost in his thought, he almost didn’t hear the car that parked in the driveway.

“Catherine, hide!” Derek hissed. “It’s the Sheriff.”

The man knocked on the door.

“Derek ? It’s the Sheriff. I need to talk to you.”

Stiles pulled his mother towards the stairs. They watched as the Sheriff entered the house.

“Good night Sheriff.” Derek greeted neutraly, as he opened the door. “To what o I owe the honor?”

“Cut it. You know something about all the shit that’s been happening. The animal attacks started when you came back from New York. There have been no bears in the Beacon Hills Area, and now I’m having reports of people attacked by grizzlies all over the woods.”

The Sheriff had a dead-serious expression in his blue eyes. Derek could hear Catherine’s heart drumming against her ribs, as she stood in the stairway, just barely out of sight, with her son grabbing her by the arm.

“What makes you think I have anything to do with it?” Derek asked.

“I am not stupid.” The Sheriff grunted. “I am a police officer, for God’s sake. I know how to connect the dots. I don’t know exactly how, but I know you are linked to the attacks.”

“But didn’t you just say that they were animal attacks?”

Stiles heart was suddenly beating faster. Derek almost sighed, as he noticed the kid had finally realized what consequences it could have if his father was here. The Draugrs were coming towards them, and Stiles had to run around the house to activate the wards. And his father was there, standing in front of Derek. He heard Stiles typing on his phone, probably to the rest of the pack to come.

“Yes. But it’s easy to make I look like that. You collect animal hair, spread it around a mauled body, and there you have it. Animal attack, as easy as that. Of course, these killings? The first ones seemed all to be connected with the fire. At first I thought it was Kate, but now that they are starting again, there’s only one suspect left…” The Sheriffs explained, taking a step forward, his hand on his holster. Then Derek heard them, just as Stiles heart fluttered. The kid gasped loudly, catching the Sheriff’s attention.

“They’re here, Stiles!” Derek shouted.

Stiles ran jumped from the stairs, and ran to the doorway, dodging his father’s hand as the Sheriff tried to catch him. Stiles put his hand on the Rune carved in the wall. Stiles eyes glowed blue, there was no pupil, no iris, just a pair of light blue lanterns. The wood had the same exact glow along the Rune’s lines. The Sheriff took a setep backwards, almost bumping into Derek. They watched as Stiles ran to another doorway, and did the same to another ward.

“Call Grandma.” Stiles said, as he brushed past the Sheriff again. “Tell her to gather the pack and cover them on their way here.”

“Stiles, what in the hell is going-“ The Sheriff started.

“Just do it! Can you trust me, Dad!?” Stiles snapped.

The sheriff took his phone out, and looked at his son.

“You will have so much to explain when this is over. And what the hell is coming he-“

He Sheriff’s words were cut when one of the Draugrs tried to break the window next to the front door.

“What the-“ The sheriff started.

“I won’t get to the Runes on the outside in time!” Stiles whined.

“I’ll cover you.” Derek said.

“No, I’ll do it.” Catherine said, shooting from the stairs. “Derek, keep Maxim safe.”

She was about to go through the front door, but the Sheriff was holding her by the shoulder, turning her so he could see her.

“C-Catherine?” The Sheriff said, his voice cracking. It was such a painful thing to hear Derek couldn’t help the whimper that came from the bottom of his throat.

“Maxim. I’ll tell you everything, but right now we have to keep ourselves alive in order to do that, so why don’t you do what Seryeshka asked you?” She gave her a fond smile, and caressed his face. “I promise I’ll explain, just, not now.”

“It really is you…” The Sheriff whispered. “But how…”

“Dad!” Stiles shouted. “Snap out of it, please, we need you to call the others! Derek, hold your ground, I’m going to with Mom.”

Catherine set herself lose, and opened the front door, kicking a Draugr in the chest with a swift move of her body. Derek was surprised, but Stiles must have seen her fighting before during their training sessions, because he didn’t seem surprised. She took a small notebook from the pocket of her jeans, probably scribbled with runes. A few seconds later, and there were three white wolves fighting off the Draugrs, along with a flame golem – a creature that reminded Derek a crossover with the Human Torch and The Thing. It was bulky, and its skin looked like rock, and there was fir all around it.

Derek saw the Necromancer coming out of the tree line. But she wasn’t alone. There were two Bears brushing past her, running towards Stiles, that was caressing a tree, with the same blue glow on his eyes.

“Stiles!” Derek roared.

The kid snapped to attention, and looked at the two beasts. Stiles rolled on the floor, away from the paw of one of the bears, but right towards the trajectory of the other’s jaws. The bear tried to bite him, but there seemed to be an invisible barrier between him and the teen. That’s when Derek saw the rune that was shining on Stiles’s skin. He was about to step out of the house, but he heard a crash, as a Draugr came into the living room, coming from the back door in the laundry room. The Sheriff was hanging up his phone, and took his gun out of the holster, and shot the creature. The Draugr moaned in discomfort, but kept shuffling towards the Sheriff. Derek shifted, and roared at the undead. The Sheriff stepped back, surprised. Derek attacked the Draugr, ripping its head off with his claws. The creature stopped moving, and the glow it had on its eyes disappeared.

“Have you called the others?” Derek asked.

The sheriff nodded, and looked outside. Stiles was punching one of the Beasr in the face, and then the other bear was running towards him, and drew it’s claws down on him, as the rune in Stiles’s arm stopped glowing, announcing the breaking of the Ward. Catherine shouted, and ran to her son. Derek could see all in slow motion. The claws ripped flesh and borke bones, but not Stiles, as Catherine threw herself between the Berserker and her son. The following second, there was a ball of flames hitting the nose of the Bear that Stiles had been hitting, and two wolves jumped on the back of the Bear that had hit Catherine.

“Cathie!” The sheriff shouted, a pained plead.

Derek pushed the Sheriff into the house, and ran to the Bear that had its nose burned. Suddenly, there were five other werewolves coming out of the trees – Jackson, Danny, Boyd, Erica and Scott. They took the burnt bear down. The Sheriff was shooting another Draugr, as he tried to walk towards his wife. Derek aimed his run to the Necromancer. The woman was suddenly panicking, realizing she wouldn’t beat a werewolf pack and two Warlocks (Anastasyia was right behind the wolves, with her eyes glowing gold, like Stiles’s had been), with only two other Berserkers and half a dozen Draugrs. She took a step back, and then ran, whistling. The other Berserkers tried to escape their attackers, and Derek roared at them to stand back. He watched as the Bears ran into the woods. Stiles was on his knees, calling for his mother.

Derek took a step back, and looked into the kids eyes. Derek shook his head slightly. There was only one heart beat around them, and it was Stiles’s.

“No!” The Sheriff hissed, sliding on his knees, and grabbing his wife’s head. “You promised you would tell me, Catherine! Don’t do this to me!” He cried. “Open your goddamned eyes! I won’t let you do this to me, not again, Catherine!”

Catherine’s chest was ripped apart, most of her right ribs broken into pieces. Her eyes were already glassy. Stiles stood up, and pulled his dad up with him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…” Stiles started.

“You knew. How long?!” The Sheriff cried.

“A month.”

“You’ve known  she was alive for a month and you didn’t tell me, Stiles?!” The older man roared.

“And why do you think I didn’t!” Stiles hissed back, and there was that cold look, the one he had the day he reunited with his mother.  “Because I knew this could happen! Do you think I wanted to give you that?! Tell you she was alive, only for her to be ripped away from us, so we had to go through it all again, Dad?!” The sheriff took a step back. “I’ve been keeping you secrets to protect you from this! This is why I keep my mouth shut, so don’t you dare tell me I did wrong, because if you didn’t know, at least you hadn’t to grieve for her again!”

Stiles was eerily calm, no tears down his face, nothing, just emptiness. The Sheriff dropped to his knees again and wept against his wife’s shoulder. Anastasyia was there in a second, holding her son’s shoulder. No one dared to ask them what they wanted to do with the body. What saddened Derek the most was that she was gone so quickly, neither Stiles nor the Sheriff had had any time to tell her anything before she was really gone, before she said her last words.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Derek had been sitting in the house the rest of the day. They had taken the body and buried it on the grave where they thought she had been originally. Catherine, Stiles and Anastasyia had been meeting at the house, since it was risky to do so at Stiles’s place, because of the Sheriff. Derek had even grown founder of her, mainly because she was a link to his past, to his mother. She had been a warm person, so kind, always thinking about others. It must have been a huge and painful sacrifice to know her son would go through all of that, only to protect him from harm, harm that would come anyway. He head someone outside, and went to the front porch. Stiles was lingering around the place where you could still see the blood stains in the grass. It was almost night again. Derek approached silently, and watched. Stiles looked up. There was that void look again.

“Stiles.” Derek whispered. “Are you ok?”

And Derek could feel everything inside the kid crumbling. The void gave way to sandess and anger. He took a step forward, and took a deep breath, before shouting at Derek.

“OK?! Am I ok?! She died! It was my birthday! I spent my birthday burring and grieving for my mother! AGAIN! She is gone, she was here and now she is gone! And all because of me!”

There were tears streaming down his face and he sobbed.

“She gone, Derek, I don’t think I’m strong enough to this again, I can’t, I feel like I want to die, I want to just close mye eyes and be with her… And she died because of me, again, she was trying to protect me and- I can’t do this!”

“Then don’t!” Derek said gently, taking a step forward. “Don’t do this to yourself. You have the right to grieve for her, but don’t blame yourself.”

“My father can’t even look at me, and I am so scared I’ll lose him to…” Stiles sobbed.

And there was something pulling on Derek, so he closed the distance between them and held the teenager in a tight hug. Stiles sobbed violently against his chest for an hour. He started to calm down and that was when Derek had the courage to look at him again.

“Let’s go inside. You lay down a little, sleep. Then you go back to your home, and tell your father exactly what you told me.” Derek whispered. “How does that sound?”

“Like a bad idea…” Stiles sighed, looking up into Derek’s eyes. “But thank you…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Derek had guided him by the hand. Stiles was surprised to realize the Alpha was taking them to his own room. Stiles’s hear drummed against his chest as Derek invited him to lay down on his bed. Stiles could help but think when everything had changed. When did he start to care what Derek thought about him. Stiles guessed he always cared what he thought of him, but for a completely different reason. At first it was a matter of wondering if his action would make the Alpha try to kill him. Now, it was more a matter of making him smile, not hurting him. When Stiles laid down, Derek pointed at his body.

“You can take those off if you want to.” Derek said gently. “It isn’t confortable sleeping in your jeans… Trust me, I would know.”

Stiles chuckled lightly.

“If you want to see me naked, just tell me, dude.” Stiles joked.

“Ugh, I just don’t want you to ruin my sheets.”

“No, I’m seirous, I would totally strip for you.” Stiles shrugged, unbuttoning his jeans.

“I guess the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health.” Derek replied, leaning against the doorway.

Stiles froze, and looked up.

“You remembered that?” Stiles asked. “You actually remember what I said?”

“Yes.” Derek nodded.

When Stiles was on his boxer-briefs, laing on the bed, Derek turned around, about to leave.

“Don’t go…” Stiles whispered. Derek turned around. “I… Can you… I just…”

Derek nodded, and took his own clothes of, laying down next to him. Stiles was trying to calm his heart down, but it didn’t seem to want to stay quiet. Maybe it was because he had a smoking hot Alpha werewolf, almost naked, sprawled at his side.

“I miss her already…” Stiles whispered.

“I know.” Derek said, nodding. Hey were laying on their sides, looking at each other. Derek looked so vulnerable, like that, looking to Stiles’s eyes. The teenager realized that he liked the Alpha because of that side, the side he could see that others couldn’t because of the way he shielded it with his frowns and growls. Derek was just as broken as any of them, he only had a different way of coping with that.

“You do, don’t you?” Stiles commented. Derek nodded, closing his eyes. “Yeah… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t, Stiles.” Derek cut, his hadn’t lingering in Stiles’s shoulder. “Can you not do that for once?”

“Do what?”

“Being there for us, and just deflect, and not letting us take care of you.” Derek sighed.

Stiles looked into the Alpha’s green eyes. Stiles knew he was right.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Why did you come here?” Derek asked.

Stiles thought for a moment, and sighed.

“Because I thought you were the only person that could save me from myself, like you are always doing, saving me…”

Derek nodded again, his black hair sticking in every direction. There was moment of silence, before Stiles spoke again.

“Thank you…” he said. “For being there… For trying to save me… and her… for letting us have a place to meet, for letting me see that I should talk to her, for giving us a last chance…”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Derek whispered. “It’s what friends are for.”

Stiles swallowed hard, and before he could stop himself, his damn lack of brain-to-mouth filter let him down once more.

“I wish we could be more than-“ Too late to stop, Stilinski! “I mean-“

“What do you need, Stiles?” Derek asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You.” Stiles said finally, after a moment of thought, not actually thinking about the answer, only if he should give it.

Derek pulled closer, and caresses Stiles’s lips with his own, a promise of a kiss. Stiles closed the rest of the distance, then they were kissing, first slow and gently, and then more passionate. Derek rolled them both, so Stiles was on top. Stiles brain was blank. There was nothing on his mind, not a worry about Derek, about his mother, about his father, just this, a warm wet kiss in a room lit by the setting Sun. There were warm hands exploring his body, caressing his skin as he caressed Derek’s. They broke the kiss, and Derek looked into his eyes once more.

“You should sleep.” Derek whispered.

“is that an advice or an order?”

“Whatever makes you actually sleep.” Derek replied, smiling.

Stiles rolled his eyes, and rolled back into the bed, his back turned to Derek. The alpha wrapped his arm around his waist, and rested his forehead against Stiles’s neck. Stiles was antsy, and couldn’t sleep. An hour and half later, Derek talked to him in a hoarse voice, that was sexy as everything about him.

“Stiles, sleep. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

And that was it. Stiles was falling asleep the next minute.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maxim looked out of the window. The night was warm, for an April night. He couldn’t help but feel empty. They had already explained everything about Warlocks, Werewolves, and Berserkers. It was so much to take in, especially the part where Catherine had been alive for all these years, and he didn’t even know. His phone vibrated, and he looked at the caller ID.

“Stiles.” He sighed

“Dad, I know it’s late… I just… I wanted you to know I’m ok. I’m at Derek’s. And I’m sorry… I just… I don’t want to lose you too.”

The sheriff held back a sob, as a tear ran down his face.

“I know. I don’t want to lose you to son. Are you settle down there, or you need me to pick you up?”

“I’m spending the night here. Derek just went to make me some snacks.”

“I’m glad he’s taking care of you…”

“And Babushka is taking care of you, isn’t she? If she’s not, I’ll be there and take care of you.”

The Sheriff shook his head.

“Stiles, let’s do this the right way this time, ok? I’m the one who should be there for you. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

“We’ll take care of each other, then.” Stiles replied, and the Sheriff could hear a sad smile on his voice.

“Yeah. Good night, son.”

“night, dad.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Stiles hang up, Derek was coming into the room with a tray full of tasty nice things.

“Oh, you’re my hero!” Stiles said, as he grabbed a peanut butter sandwich. Derek chuckled lightly.

“I should be… I think I heard your mother using your first name... Seryeshka.” Derek had a mischievous grin on his face.

Stiles stopped chewing and gave him a stern look.

“If anyone ever finds out about that name, I will put wolfsbane on your underwear drawer, you hear me?”

“Why am I more scared to know you actually know which is my underwear drawer than to know you’ll do that…?” Derek said, looking up.

“Because you should revise your priorities, Mss. Granger.” Stiles spat.

“I’m not even ginger…” Derek complained.

Stiles’s eyes widened.

“You know who Hermione is?! You’ve read Harry Potter?!” Stiles asked.

Derek gave him a grumpy look.

“Stiles, it’s not like I’ve been raised by wolves.” There was a small pause, but Derek cut him before he could say anything. “Don’t even bother to comment on that sentence, Stiles…”

“You were asking for it…” Stiles shrugged.

Derek rolled his eyes and leaned forward, kissing him slowly. Stiles sighed into his lips, and there it was again, the blank mind thing Derek could give him with his lips on Stiles’s.

“So, if I keep doing this you shut up?” Derek asked, his lips brushing on Stiles’s chin.

Stiles didn’t reply, he just kissed him again, just because he could, and he couldn’t help a small smile that appeared on his mouth. Stiles was actually still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he didn’t think this could actually be happening, but then again, what was the worse it could happen, after his mother dies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry... I really didn't want her to die, but yeah, I let the characters write the story... But yeah, I'm sorry. But look at the bright side, there's Sterek fluff. and a little Stilinski moment... A good one, at least.


End file.
